


Cherry

by hannahrhen



Series: Good, Giving, Game [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Porn Challenge, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:16:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrhen/pseuds/hannahrhen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That escalated quickly.</p><p>(Expanding day one in the "Good, Giving, Game" 'verse: "anal sex")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry

Tony wondered if Loki could actually hear his heart beating.

It was so loud. So goddamned loud. And on his hands and knees, ass in the air, Tony was pretty sure the damned thing was going to beat its way into his throat, a bass-line of fear and _just not believing this was happening_.

Fuck.

He could hear Loki breathing.

You wouldn’t think you could hear a god breathing; it should be the kind of thing limited to mortals, right, the inhale and exhale of oxygen, but he’d caught Thor panting after a battle, or sighing with disappointment (usually because of said mortals), or huffing in disgust (same).

And Loki? Loki’s hot, fast breaths right now told Tony he was turned the hell on. By Tony.

By what he was about to do to Tony.

Flash back to a half hour before, when Loki had read the first thing on the list:

“ _Waitwaitwait_ \--that’s the _first_ thing?”

The god’s smile was that of a particularly devious child whose cruel scheme had just been revealed. ... Yeah, actually, that is exactly what it was.

No, but ... “The _first_ thing?!” He needed some confirmation. He needed to see that fucking list.

Loki had held the tablet just out of Tony’s reach. “Yes, ‘anal sex’ is the first thing.”

Tony dropped his arm. Pulled his jaw back up from the floor. Shook his head, and tried again. “We don’t get to--I dunno--warm up to that? A handjob? Some dry-humping? Spanking?”

The smile widened. “Oh, you like spanking?”

Ugh. He couldn’t take the mocking. “No, I don’t--ugh. Stop. The seriously first thing on your list--on _your list_ \--is _ass fucking_.”

Just a nod this time. Though Loki was still clearly tickled. By Tony’s reaction or the thought of spanking him--Tony wasn’t sure which. And had other fish to fry anyway: “And I’m guessing you have an opinion on who gets to be the catcher.”

An exaggerated frown, then: “I’m not sure what you--”

“Who fucks who, Dr. Ruth?”

Loki’s chuckle was all delight. “Oh, I think I will avail myself of the opportunity to--” and Tony didn’t need to hear any more, jumping in with, “Yeah, okay. Whatever. That’s just ...” He cringed. “Really. _Really?_ ”

Loki must have seen something in Tony’s face, because his own expression changed, just a little twitch of thought. “Are you--”

Throwing his hands up, Tony said, “No, no--it’s fine. I just haven’t-- Done that. With another guy.” He paused. “Ever.”

“So I assumed, by your reaction.” Loki was still thinking, obviously. Assessing.

It was unsettling. “I just ... Oh, forget it.” Tony started to tug at his t-shirt. “Yeah, fine--okay. Just, if you’re going to do it--” If he was going to do it anyway, might as well get it over with. He could do pain. Had done pain. Survived humiliation.

Twenty-nine more days.

He pulled the shirt over his head, then tossed it onto the chair next to the wall where it caught and hung on the armrest. “Don’t fucking damage me too much, okay? I still need to use that part of my body for other things, you know, related to survival and ... basic dignity. Critical bodily function.”

Shivered. Didn’t want to look too closely at the other man.

Loki’s hand stopped Tony’s as they moved toward his belt buckle. Tony glanced away from the long fingers. Heard: “I meant what I said, Stark. I don’t mean to harm you ... beyond what is unavoidable.” Pushing Tony’s hands away, Loki moved to open the man’s buckle himself. “It would be counterproductive, after all ... for completing the rest of the list.”

Then it was the clink of metal and slip-slide of leather through his belt loops.

Tony snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

The belt dropped to the floor, and Tony’s head was suddenly caught in two hands, his face tilted up so he had to look at Loki. “I don’t mean to harm you, Stark.”

Tony exhaled, met the eyes once, briefly, before pulling his head away. “ ... Okay.”

So here he was, now, hands and knees over the bedcovers, knuckles white as his fingers clenched in the pillow beneath them. The bedsprings creaked as Loki shifted behind him. The bastard hadn’t even bothered to take off his own clothes--

Reminded himself why he was doing this, _why he was doing this,_ why ... Tried so hard not to think of how the others would interpret this scene. What Steve would say if he knew, if Steve would understand why Tony had agreed to this, to being used like this--

He sucked in air. He was going to be fucked like a rentboy, some kind of gigolo--did they even still have gigolos? Was that just the 1970s? Tony’s mind raced, and his heart--Jesus. Then his breath hitched as he felt a cool hand glance over his right shoulder blade, follow a slow path along his spine to his ass. The hand lifted, resettled. Repeated the caress, shoulder to buttock, soft and soothing. His brain wouldn’t give up, but he felt his thoughts change focus--just a little--to the scant friction pulling across his skin.

Loki’s tone, when he finally spoke, was measured. “Calm down, Stark. If you don’t relax, at least a little, it will hurt more than I intend.” A new caress began.

Tony’s laugh was brief, hollow. “You might as well just get it over with, because I can assure you, I’m not going to ‘relax.’” He tensed his back for show, even as he felt the muscles object under the persuasive petting.

Ignoring the protest, Loki brought his second hand to mirror the first, fingers sliding up and then gripping Tony’s shoulders, stroking over the round joints, following winding paths down his sides, over his lungs and kidneys and around his pounding, pounding heart, and ending up, again, on his--

Tony forced out a breath. Loki had snugged up against him, behind, knees tucked just inside Tony’s spread ones. Yeah, the fucker still had his clothes on, casual garments that still managed to cover every inch of skin, but Tony could already feel the hard-on trying to work free. Ready to take.

He could still hear Loki breathing.

He could hear himself, too. Dread, yes, but body now tricked by touch into a slow, visceral craving. The hands were gently training him; the pressure at his ass, warming him for what was to come.

Acclimating him, which was ... yeah, a frost giant, acclimating him. Ha.

_God._

Loki touched him again, hands still kinder than his words had ever been. Ever. Tony was quiet, for once, watching his fingers rhythmically tense and then loosen in the pillow below his head. Feeling the muscles of his back contract and then be gentled by flesh, by fingerprint.

The sixth or seventh time, Loki’s fingers lingered on his ass, gripped and shifted Tony, opening him ... just a little. Almost, but not enough, to break the spell. He felt a slick thumb slide between his cheeks, to tease and press at his hole. Remembered Loki’s objective. He made a little noise in response, heard his own sound echoed by Loki’s harsh exhale.

The sooner he let Loki do this, the sooner it would be over. Pleasure would be nice, but pleasure wasn’t part of the--

Oh.

Loki’s other hand had teased between his legs and found his cock. He wasn’t very hard, but Loki had some ideas about that, apparently. Had another objective.

Apparently.

“Stark.”

“Yeah.” He winced at the broken sound in his own voice. Found the way Loki was handling his balls was doing a remarkable job of winning over his dick.

That unexpectedly wet thumb, slick with lube or oil or _something,_ continued to press. Push in. Thick knuckle twisting sideways, pulling and coaxing him open. He knew Loki heard more of the small noises, tiny groans. Heard Loki’s own breath catch as he continued to move on his knees. As his still-restrained cock planned its invasion.

He tried really hard not to think about the picture he presented--ass way hairier than pretty much any porno _he’d_ ever seen. Balls swinging awkwardly between his legs. Did anyone have good-looking balls? And what the hell did his thighs even look like from that angle? Christ. His heart was still racing, breath coming fast, and Tony wondered if he’d ever get to see Loki stripped bare like this, vulnerable, the lines of his body fittingly god-like and flawless ...

Wondered if Loki would want him as much--and, fuck, he knew Loki wanted him, could tell by his breathing, his touch ... but would he want Tony _as much_ , if their positions were reversed? If Tony were on his knees behind, unseen, fingers in Loki’s ass, forcing the god down and getting him ready to take. To use.

To fuck.

Tony whimpered, and let Loki think it was the rough turn of that thick thumb.

That second hand left his balls and now-hard cock, pulled his left thigh just a little wider, resettled him on the covers. More sounds, this time Loki’s own fly opened, the whisper of his cock taken out, exposed, jutting up and full and ready to--

Unbidden: “God.”

And he got an amused snort in reply. “Yes, just that.”

Was freshly terrified when he felt the smooth head of Loki’s dick push between his cheeks, just at the nowhere-near-loose-enough hole. Finally objected: “Are you going to--you need to use a condom, right?”

Both of Loki’s slickened thumbs teased him this time, pried him apart, pressed in as Loki’s dick nudged closer. “Why?” was all Tony got.

“I, uh ... diseases.” He stared at the plain cream weave of the pillowcase as he clawed for words. “I feel like Nancy Reagan told me about-- _oh!_ \--diseases at some point. Or drugs. Something.” He flailed stupidly, ending with, “I don’t want to get pregnant on prom night.”

That chuckle sucked. “No diseases, Stark, and I don’t wish to get a child on you right now,” Loki assured in a way that wasn’t at all reassuring.

“Right n--,” but Tony wasn’t able to continue, because suddenly those thumbs were on his hips, hands holding him firm, and Loki was _just fucking in_. That long cock sliding into his cherry ass, and Jesus-fucking-Christ it--

Tony dropped from his hands, shoving his face into the pillow to muffle his howl.

Loki, of course, didn’t stop.

It wasn’t until Loki was fully buried--until Tony was impaled--that Tony even tried to catch his own breath. “Lovely creature,” Loki sighed, mercifully not moving.

“God, I hate you,” Tony moaned into the suffocating pillow. He could feel Loki’s hands bruising his hips, the god erect-- _ha!_ \--and unmoving behind him. Tony’s entire insides were trying to squirm out of the way of that unforgiving fireplug of a cock.

One hand slapped his asscheck lightly. “Let me know when you’re ready for me, Stark.”

“‘Ready for you?’” Tony growled. “You should have offered that before you--” Loki pulled out suddenly, slammed back in, going even deeper if it was at all fucking possible. “JESUS.”

“You’re ready for me now, then?”

“Oh, God, fuck. Loki,” Tony whined, put all his strength into trying to rip the fuck out of that pillow as he pushed himself back up on locked arms. “That is .... God.”

Loki did some goddamned thing with his hips, some little swivel maneuver that opened Tony even more, made Tony’s ass clench against the Art of War being waged upon his body. 

“What I meant to say before, Stark, is that I want nothing between us.” Loki was clearly going for ‘taunting,” but all he could manage was a breathless kind of ramble. “I want to fill you, Stark, and I want you dripping with my seed afterward.” Kept one hand on Tony’s hip, and hooking the other over his shoulder, bracing himself, a nice way to get purchase for the hell he was about to put Tony through. “Consider it a souvenir.”

“You’re a sick fuck--” Another withdrawal, another hard slam forward. Tony’s head hit the headboard. “Ow. God--you shithead--”

His asshole fluttered. Dick wasn’t completely stiff, no, but ... maybe would be. _Maybe._ Christ, the stimulation alone was--

“What do you think, Stark? Do you enjoy being taken? Do you like being fucked?”

There was no way in hell he was answering that question out loud.

But Loki took his grunt for an answer anyway. “How is it that, with all your self-proclaimed experience, you never had the unique pleasure of being ridden by a fellow warrior’s hard cock when you’re still sweating from battle, still soaring from your victory ... or on your knees, being reminded of your defeat?”

Tony knew which one he was in that illuminating scenario. “Have you--” Cut off with a gasp as Loki withdrew, invaded all over again. “God. Have you-- How many times?”

“Oh, Stark. So many.” Slid the flat palm of his hand all over Tony’s back, every bit of skin reawoken to the pleasure of that contact. “ _So many._ ”

But Loki then had the gall--the fucking nerve--to lower himself over Tony’s back, a cool, evil blanket that draped over his ass, his spine, his shoulder blades. His arms bracketing Tony’s, index fingers barely grazing the backs of Tony’s hands.

He had the fucking nerve to nose at Tony’s hairline, fix his teeth into the nape below and--

_Bite._

Tony’s whole body arched, belly down and neck up into Loki’s eager teeth, ass pressed back into the fucking awesome pain, and--

“God, Loki!”

And with his full weight off his own knees, braced carefully onto Tony, Loki’s hands were free. One went to Tony’s cock, to his balls. Priming him. The other teased up his chest and to his neck, an index finger brushing his lips and sliding into his mouth.

Tony sucked, and Loki stroked.

Loki’s thrusting was shallow now by necessity, little rounded movements that kept Tony’s attention on his abused hole, reminded him of the tight, pulsing welcome Loki was enjoying, how no doubt swollen and snug he was, a perfect sheath for Loki’s pleasure. Reminded Tony that, yeah, he was on his knees, being fucked _by a god_. Defeated or victorious, it didn’t matter, he was having his cock worked as the bass-line of his heart pushed him closer and closer to--

Shit.

Tony was ...

 _Oh._ He was going to _come._

Loki was going to come first--that, he knew--but, oh, God, Tony was going to--

He was going to come. And he was going to scream.

As if to ward it off, he sucked Loki’s finger frantically, hearing Loki’s resulting groan. Tony was going to scream, and, if he was lucky, if there was any kind of higher power anywhere that wasn’t currently fucking his ass, it wouldn’t be Loki’s name ...

... but Tony wasn’t feeling really fucking lucky right now.

The teeth found his nape again, dug in with no hesitation, no mercy, as an unholy sound forced its way out of Loki’s very core. The sudden jerking and throbbing of the cock inside him told Tony everything he needed to know--he could practically feel Loki’s come stuffing him full, Loki’s thrusts getting a little easier each time as his path was slicked with his own spunk--

Oh, God, disgusting and fucking wonderful and--

And Loki pulled his finger out of Tony’s hungry mouth, and pulled his fist along Tony’s steel-hard shaft.

And Tony was going to come. Now.

_Now._

He jerked in Loki’s kind, kind hand, screaming once more into the pillow, muffled, but like that fucking mattered to the God of Mischief, who of course would recognize his own name and give him shit about this for the rest of goddamned eternity.

They hadn’t pulled the covers down, hadn’t stripped the bed, so Tony shot all over Loki’s hands and onto the comforter beneath his knees. The first orgasm of many, many that this fucker had planned, but maybe the best one he’d ever--

Didn’t let the thought finish as his body sagged. Felt Loki heavy over him. He turned his head, sucked in air that was far cooler than his skin. “Hey,” he sighed, unable to think of anything better. Loki pulled out, and, yeah, that? That slow dribble down his thigh of someone else’s come as his ass tried to flutter shut again? Not in the least bit satisfying. Or weirdly hot. At all.

Tony wormed off his knees as Loki fell to the side, both of them winded and decidedly not looking at each other. Tony, instead, stared at the ceiling and tried to picture Steve’s disapproving scowl. Laid back and thought of (Captain) America. Heh. _God._ Kind of failed as his ass continued to throb and he realized he hadn’t actually minded losing that battle to this enemy.

“One down, Stark.” Loki snickered at Tony’s grumpy noise. “Twenty-nine more to go.”

“You suck,” Tony countered, and covered his face with his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, y'all! You can find me publicly hand-wringing over my writing, or fangirling over _Only Lovers Left Alive_ , on Tumblr: http://hannahrhen.tumblr.com/


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